


Desert Marigold

by thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, F/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 23:05:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6828862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriarLily/pseuds/thewayofthetrashcompactor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben decides to get a tattoo and then panics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desert Marigold

The small lobby at the front of the shop was empty except for Ben, who was leaning back in a chair too small for him, projecting an air of nonchalance. Apparently there weren’t many people looking to get a tattoo at three in the afternoon on a Tuesday.

At the moment, Ben wasn’t sure he wanted to be getting one either. In many ways, he had been the picture-perfect rebellious teenager: ran away from home, dyed his hair, changed his name, and by the end, did more drugs and broke more laws than he could remember. But a tattoo was one box he hadn’t checked.

There had been no chaos to his rebellion after he left home, Snoke had known exactly what he was doing. Every encouragement, every dose, every punishment was carefully planned. The Knights were exactly what Snoke molded them to be, down to each perfectly coiffed hair. They may have been criminals, but Snoke never let anything mar their carefully crafted image, from legal charges to tattoo ink.

It had been a year, more or less, since he’d left Snoke, and the justice system was taking its slow toll on his former leader. To what end, he wasn’t sure. He tried not to think about it most days. It was never as successful as he wanted, but it had been getting easier. Rey helped.

Rey. Rey was going to kill him. He was sitting in the shop of someone he had barely even met to get his first tattoo and Rey was going to kill him. He had wanted it to be a surprise, thinking she’d appreciate it, but the longer he sat in the stupidly uncomfortable chair, the more he was becoming convinced it was a terrible idea. She was obviously going to be upset, what on earth made him think –

“Ben Solo?”

He jumped, focusing immediately on the noise. He relaxed minutely when he saw it was the same woman he had talked to when he arrived, but tensed again immediately when he realized it was time. Now was his last chance to leave.

The woman continued smiling. Even if Ben had shown his anxiety, he was sure she dealt with enough nervous clients to keep up her smile through most things, up to an outright panic attack. Which could be useful.

“We’re ready for you, come on back,” she said, beckoning him.

He stood slowly and walked across the room, continuing to the room waiting for him when the woman stepped aside. He sat down on the table offered to him and let himself be positioned. The artist was talking, telling him what to expect, everything he had already heard. He gritted his teeth. He knew what he was doing, he had planned this. He wanted to do this.

The artist went to work, and it was both better and worse than he had anticipated. He found he couldn’t watch for long, the visuals accompanying needles sinking into him more than he could handle, despite his interest in watching the design unfold across his skin. Managing the pain was easy, almost instinctual. It was only a struggle to sit while the energy buzzed through him without an outlet.

When it was finally over, he considered going back to work. The shop would still be open, but there was little chance that Finn would be happy to see him. He had nearly pushed Ben out the door earlier and Ben didn’t doubt that he’d do it again if he tried to go back on his afternoon off. He sighed, and made his way to the apartment instead.

The evening passed with excruciating slowness. He spent time on the business, which was still doing well enough to get by, cleaned, made supper, and finally threw himself onto the couch with a book to keep himself from pacing. He held it tightly in his hands to keep them from wandering to trace along the new lines on his arm. At every noise, his gaze flew to the door, hoping to see it finally open.

He must have dozed off, because he woke up to the sound of metal clanging from the kitchen. He tried to get up and landed in an undignified heap next to the couch. Cursing, he picked himself up and rushed to the kitchen where Rey was digging into the pot he had left on the stove. She looked at him and smiled.

“Sorry I’m so late. Couldn’t get the last appointment to sit still for anything, took forever to get him done.”

Standing in the doorway, he stared at her for a minute. It was overwhelming sometimes, to realize that she came home to him. They were standing in their kitchen, together, and it felt like more than he could have ever deserved in this life.

“You okay?” she asked, cocking her head to the side, gesturing with the spoon in her hand. “You look pale – like, paler than usual.” She grinned at her joke, but the smile slid into a look of complete shock when she caught sight of his arm. The spoon clattered to the floor.

He stood still as she grabbed his arm, trailing her fingers just above the sensitive skin. He watched as she followed the lines, mimicking what he had done so often to her. He examined them himself, trying to see them as she did. Yellow and orange desert flowers bloomed along the inside of his arm, from wrist to elbow, petals reaching out to cover years of old scars.

“Oh my god,” she breathed. “Ben.”

“Is – is it okay?” he stammered, heart pounding. “I didn’t – “

“No, no, it’s beautiful,” she assured him, fingers still feeling the edges of the design. “And it’s wonderful work.” She looked up at him with a teasing grin. “I can’t believe you got someone else to give you your first tattoo though.”

He flushed red. “I wanted it to be a surprise!” he protested.

She laughed. “I am absolutely surprised.” She stood on her toes and pulled his head down to hers for a soft kiss. “I love it, Ben.”

He pulled her back into the kiss, digging his hand into her hair. The tattoo was a subtle heat on his arm, and it was comforting to have the flowers, her flowers on his skin, over his past. They were marked on each other in so many ways it made his heart ache. He pressed a little harder into the kiss and she pressed back, her smile warm against his lips.

He moaned when she pulled away, but their hands stayed tangled in each other’s hair.

“We should wrap that up,” she said breathlessly, nodding at his arm. “I plan on doing some things to you that aren’t approved in the aftercare regimen.”

He smirked down at her and let himself be pulled across the kitchen until she stopped suddenly and looked back at him.

“I am doing your next one, right?” she asked with a playful scowl.

He grinned. “No one else,” he promised.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the tattoo prompt and kind of vaguely set in the flower shop/tattoo parlor au, but just a short oneshot. Originally posted on [tumblr](http://thewayofthetrashcompactor.tumblr.com/post/143092407138/desert-marigold)!


End file.
